There is Always Hope
by Erika
Summary: When Aragorn becomes frustrated while chasing the Urukhai, Legolas helps him regain his peace.


**Title**: There Is Always Hope

**Series**: Book of Days (basically, it's a series of missing moments.  Little scenes between Aragorn and Legolas that will take place throughout the trilogy – please read author's note (2) for more info.)

**Author**: Erika (firedrake88@yahoo.com)

**Rating**: PG

**Summary**: When Aragorn becomes frustrated while chasing the Uruk-hai, Legolas helps him regain his peace.

**Time Frame**: Takes place just before TTT starts, as Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli are in pursuit of the Uruk-hai.

**Spoilers**: For TTT, if you haven't seen it yet.

**Category**: Angst, H/C, what else?  Oh yeah, POV.

**Disclaimers**: It would make me the happiest person in the world to be able to truthfully say that Aragorn and Legolas belong to me, but alas, it is not so.  I make no money from this, and it is written (against my will) for entertainment purposes only.

**Feedback**: Both positive feedback and _constructive_ criticism are greatly appreciated and will be cherished!

**Archive**:  Please ask and send me a link to your site so that I can check it out. =D

**Author's Note:** (1) It's been a few years since I last read the LOTR in its entirety so these missing moments are basically based on the movies.  I apologize in advance if I contradict anything that's stated in the books; any mistakes are purely accidental. (2) So far, this series consists of the following stories:  A Light in the Darkness (not yet posted), The Comfort of Listening, There is Always Hope, and Fall of a Friend.

**  


There Is Always Hope 

**

**Legolas:**

It was nearing nightfall on the eve of our third day's pursuit of the foul Uruk-hai that held our young Hobbit friends captive and weariness was beginning to take its toll on an already drained company.  While at first Aragorn had led us onward at a surprisingly fierce pace, our lack of rest had slowed us to but a fast jog.

We were growing tired.  Today we had lost, not gained, distance on our foes, and the further we fell behind them the more hope seemed to fade.  They were more than a day ahead of us now, running with seemingly no thought of taking respite, and it had been hours since they had passed from the sight of my Elf eyes.  Even Aragorn, who could gain knowledge from what appeared to be nothing but a mess of grass trampled into mud, could not interpret the enemies' tracks.

Some hope still lived in my heart, though.  I knew well the ways of orcs and thought that though different, the Uruk-hai were similar enough for me to believe that had they meant to kill Merry and Pippin, they would have done so upon first taking hold of them.   Though we had not proof that they lived, neither had we proof of their deaths and that eased the edge of my worries.  As long as they lived, we had hope of rescuing them from whatever fate they were being dragged to.

Aragorn, unfortunately, seemed to hold no such thoughts within him.  The optimism which had first driven him – and us – in this pursuit had dwindled when, for hours, he had found no sign of our friends' fortune.  His growing weariness had not only continued to diminish his hope, it had eaten it away entirely.  With every passing minute I had watched his steps grow heaver, slower, and had seen him give way to frustration.  A frustration that had quickly turned into a hindrance that was barring his ability to read tracks as skillfully as I knew he could.

Desperate to find something that would indicate whether the Hobbits had already been slain or that they yet lived, Aragorn had momentarily called halt to our hunt.  Crouched low to the ground, he was now quietly trying to learn all he could from the tracks that only he could make sense of.  I could tell by the low slant of his slumped shoulders and an occasional murmur of aggravated words that his search did not go well.  I also unhappily perceived that Aragorn was being careless in his despondency and that if there were clues to be found here, he would not find them when he was so clearly governed by a growing sense of hopelessness.

I glanced back at Gimli, who was taking this time to rest and recover some strength, though he would never admit to any such action.  I found my new Dwarf friend difficult to fully understand and yet I was nearly certain that he was unaware of the sinking emotional state of Aragorn.  That did not surprise me.  Aragorn hid his feelings well and it had taken years for me to be able to see through his usually calm demeanor.

Boromir's death had filled my friend with a sense of purpose and bestowed upon him a tie to his own people.  His eyes had shown brightly with a certainty that I had never before had the fortune to see in their depths.  Though he had yet been unsure of where the path he tread would lead him, he had found an inner peace that allowed him to believe in himself.  He had determined to not fall to the same evil that smote his ancestor and for the first time had believed he might possess the strength to do it.  For the first length of our journey that knowledge had cast a glow about him, but now it had faded.

It saddened me greatly to see him fall back into uncertainty and I knew that as his friend it was my duty to give him back the hope he had lost, in the same fashion that he had for Gimli and myself after the breaking of the Fellowship.  My pledge to always walk at his side, as well as my caring for this brother-friend, ensured that I could do no less than lift him back to his feet when he faltered.

Treading softly over the mangled grass that marked the passing of the Uruk-hai, I joined Aragorn.  His eyes were still intent upon the ground but I knew that though he did not acknowledge it, he was aware of me.  For a moment I watched as, with trembling fingers, he parted leaves and dirt in search of hidden signs.  Then I reached out and placed a hand over his own, stilling their restless movement.

"Do you seek to distract me, Legolas?" he asked with a touch of unprovoked anger that I had rarely heard directed at me before, "Rejoin Gimli, I shall advise you when I am ready to move on."

His voice was tight, and though it hurt me to hear that he was speaking to me as if I were little more than a mere traveling companion, I did not remove my hand.  I was determined to break through this shroud of despair that hung about my friend.  I could not allow him to continue in such a fashion.

"No, Aragorn," I replied sadly, "I seek only to help you."

Annoyed at my persistence, he pulled his hands out from under mine and turned hardened blue eyes upon me.  "Unless you have skills that you have kept hidden from me, there is no assistance you can provide.  The greatest help you could give would be to leave me in peace so that I may continue."

I lowered my gaze, not wishing to see the irritation that my friend aimed at me.  Aragorn was a man not easily overcome by such emotions.  He had spoken carelessly, giving into hopelessness and the guilt of believing that if we failed the Hobbits, it would be his fault.  Even knowing that it was not me he was truly frustrated with, his words cut into me like the sharpest of Elf arrows.

"You bear the weight of the Hobbit's lives as if it were yours and no other's.  Gimli and I are equally eager to find them.  Since you believe that that burden is yours alone, you have become impatient in our search.  That has caused your weariness to turn to hopelessness and your hopelessness to despair.  It has clouded your judgment.  While it is true that these tracks are naught but a garbled set of unidentifiable footprints to me, I am your friend and can help ease your mind if you let me."  My words were precise and even; hopefully Aragorn had not read the hurt in them.

Unbridled aggravation suddenly marred the man's features and his answer was all but spat at me, "You presume much if you think that every time I am distressed I am in need of your help.  I neither want nor require your assistance."

Cringing slightly at these uncharacteristic words, I could not stop myself from reeling back slightly in surprise.  Aragorn had never spoken thusly to me, had never lashed out in ire when I only meant to help.  It stung bitterly in my heart, almost surprisingly so, and it felt as if my friend had physically struck me down with his response.  "Estel…" I murmured almost pleadingly, this time unable to keep the hurt from coloring my voice.

For a moment thick silence hung in the air but soon it was broken by a ragged sigh.  I felt a gentle touch upon my shoulder and looked up into my friend's eyes.  Regret and sadness filled those deep blue pools of churning emotion and I could plainly see that Aragorn wished to take back the words he had thoughtlessly flung at me.

Shaking his head faintly and catching my gaze with his own, he spoke softly in the sweet tones of my own tongue.  "Legolas…forgive me my friend.  I meant not what I said and wish only to erase the hurt I see in your eyes."  All frustration was gone from his voice, leaving only quiet sorrow and fear in its wake.

Aragorn's words and tone would not be easily forgotten, even knowing they were spurred by annoyance, but I did wish for him to know that.  Placing my own hand on his shoulder, I smiled a reassurance at my friend, "Be at ease, Aragorn, I know that you are strained and that those words came not from your heart."

Again, he shook his head, this time more fiercely.  "Do not tell me to cast away my regret when I see quite clearly that in venting my frustration I have caused you pain.  You are, and have ever been, my friend and I am eternally grateful for your concern.  Please remember those words and not the ones I so carelessly uttered."

Warmth at Aragorn's sincerity replaced the hurt in my heart and I immediately sought to in turn comfort my friend.  So much already weighed on his mind, I would not have him needlessly add this to his burden.  Shifting forward until my forehead was resting against Aragorn's, I whispered, "There is nothing to forgive."

"Thank you," he said, pulling back after a moment's pause, "In truth I would be most grateful your help," his tone was hesitant, as was his smile.  I knew he was testing the waters.

I smiled in return.  "Then close your eyes and do as I say."  I requested softly.

Without taking so much as a moment's consideration, Aragorn let his eyes flutter shut and waited.

"I know that you are frightened," I whispered, "I understand that you believe that failing to save the Hobbits would be your fault, but you cannot allow those emotions to take hold of you as you have.  They do not help, only hinder.  You must release them."

For a moment, Aragorn looked truly lost.  "I cannot.  I know not how.  Gandalf entrusted them to my care, if they die…"

"They may yet be alive," I interrupted.  My heart ached to see the distress on his face and hear the pain in his voice.  It saddened me to see my dear friend suffering needlessly. 

"I wish I could believe that," he admitted, bowing his head.

"You can.  I shall help you," I promised.

Touching my hand to his chest, I found his slightly fast pulse.  "Breathe slowly.  Deeply," I instructed.

Aragorn took in a deep inhalation of breath, held it for a moment, and then released it.

After but a few minutes of doing this, Aragorn's muscles relaxed considerably, his heartbeat slowed to normal, and some of the tension he held slipped away.  When I felt that the edge of his despair was smoothed, I continued.  "Now feel the beauty of the world around us."

Elves held an overwhelming love for trees.  Even now, my heart longed for them.  Their exquisiteness was matched by nothing and when I wandered far from the forests of the world, a loneliness pierced me that often could only be comforted by the presence of a friend such as Aragorn.  To be among them, listening and learning, gave Elves a peace that most mortal men could not understand.

Aragorn was different.  He had been raised by my kin and had learned our ways.  He knew that though it was forests – endless meadows of nothing but trees – that claimed our souls, we saw beauty in everything that grew around us, in everything that was of nature.   With time and practice he had gained the ability to feel some of what we did.  All I needed to do was show him that despite the perils we were facing, the splendor of the world was not lost.

He frowned and shook his head, "I feel nothing, Legolas."

"You are being unduly impatient," I admonished, "Can you feel the wind?"

"Yes," he whispered.

"Concentrate on the sound it makes, on its touch.  It carries within it the beauty of everything it has passed over.  Allow yourself to feel that.  Do not let your worry block it out."  Almost without meaning to, I rubbed my hand in soft circles over his chest, soothing him, comforting him.

He swallowed and sighed.  I feared he would surrender to defeat but he did not.  Instead, I felt his concentration shift outward.  As he had been taught to do many years earlier by Lord Elrond, he let nature touch and carry him away.   A change came over him.  After many minutes of silence, he smiled and seemed to relax more fully.

"Feel the beauty that exists in all living things," I said then, "even this trampled grass that you hope will reveal its secrets to you."

My friend bore a look of intense concentration upon his face and as I watched, I could see him drifting further away from his body and into the magnificence that so easily captivated all Elves.

Slowly, I saw the remaining tension flow from Aragorn's body and with a smile, asked, "Can you hear that the world is whispering, Estel?"

His smile broadened and my heart filled with happiness to see it.  "Yes, Legolas, I can hear it."

A few minutes later when he opened his eyes to look upon me, I found his gaze calm and steady.  No longer mired by hopelessness, they now shone with the beauty of life.  Gratitude and friendship also shone within them.  "Thank you for reminding me of what I had forgotten, Legolas.  Even at times like these, when darkness looms over us, there is beauty and hope to be found."

Holding his eyes in my own, I answered, "There is always hope, Estel."

He smiled again, his eyes falling back to the ground.  Moments later, I saw him shake his head and grin.  "A Hobbit was let fall to the ground here," he pointed to some markings on the dirt in front of us, as if expecting me to see the same thing he did, "He lay but a moment before they picked him up and continued on their way again."  

Suddenly he laughed loudly and my heart danced at this show of mirth that I had not seen him display in many a day.  It gratified me to hear his joy and I too smiled.  "It could not have been more obvious had it been glowing as brightly as the stars that fill the sky at night," he declared in amused disbelief as he jumped to his feet.  "Thank you for lifting the veil that hid this from my eyes."

"You're welcome," I replied with a laugh of my own.

He extended his hand and when I took it, swiftly pulled me to my feet.  "Come," he said, his voice and eyes certain once more, "They are yet alive and we must continue the chase!"

Springing forward at a speed that he had lacked for nearly a day now, he ran off into the distance.  For a moment I watched him, grateful to see his strength returned to him, before turning to call over my shoulder, "Come, Gimli!  You have rested enough, it is time to continue!"

Gimli leapt to his feet in indignation, "Rest?" he grumbled loudly, "I am a Dwarf and require less time to recover my strength than you or any other Elf that still wanders this earth!"

Smiling, I turned and hurried to catch up with Aragorn.

THE END


End file.
